Deception is a foundation seeded with half-truths. If you get caught in one lie your entire structure falls to pieces. So don't get caught.
-Sasha Bordeaux
Peacemaker ended up sleeping past dusk. He was more worn out than he thought. To the distress of his nurse, when he woke he got out of bed. He stretched his body, pacing the hall a few times before he finally settled. He ate a tray of what was supposed to be meat and vegetables while connecting back to castle on his laptop.
Seated in an armchair at a small table, Peacemaker drilled the pawn. Nadia had used her extra research time well.
"There is this one angle I was looking into … Not quite what you wanted but it was all I had to go on. A research lab in western El Paso caught fire about a month ago."
Peacemaker opened a pudding cup. "The Texan showed up last week. How is this an angle?"
"The lab specialized in robotics. Like, advanced robotics."
"Like the kind the Texan's using?"
"I don't have enough data to answer conclusively. But I started digging up info on stuff that happened around the time of the lab accident. Burges High School volunteered to help clean up in the area of the fire. That's Jaime's school." In a second window, screenshots of her research popped up as she prattled on. "Cute little article in the local paper on it. Anyway, a security guard from the research lab filed a report with police on the same day Jaime was blocks away. Two kids were snooping around the lab wreckage."
He perked up. "Was there a description of them?"
Nadia read off the report. "It just refers to them as two delinquents." She leaned back. "Go on, you can say it. I'm a …"
Peacemaker slotted this new intel alongside what he already knew. Perhaps Jaime stole the suit from the lab. Or maybe a second party was responsible for the theft and Jaime got roped in after. It didn't matter which was the case. What mattered was that Peacemaker was closing in on the origins of the exoskeleton. It mattered that he had less than a day to investigate. And it mattered that he finish this. For his team.
"What's the address?" he asked.
"You were supposed to say genius there. I'm a genius."
"Pawn, you were just starting ta get on my good side. Don't push it."
Nadia fake gasped. "You mean there's a side of you that's better than big, brooding, constipated army man? Be still my heart!"
"Address!"
"I hear ya, chief man. Sending everything now."
A file popped up. Peacemaker rubbed his chin, glancing at the doorway. No one in sight. But Bordeaux had warned him on the Osprey … someone in castle was watching.
"You okay?" Nadia spoke. "By now you're usually hanging up on me or something."
"This line is secure, right?"
"Uh, duh."
"I mean, it's just us? No one else from castle is … listening?"
Nadia gave him a weird look. "I set it up myself. We're clear. What's up?"
"I'm not sure but …" He stared at the ridiculous girl in the cat-eared beanie. She was good, but inexperienced. He wasn't sure if she was white King or Queen's pawn. But she was just a pawn. He'd chance it that she wasn't mixed up in it. The more allies he brought in, the better prepared he would be for whatever storm was brewing back at castle.
"Keep your eyes open over there," he told her. "Not just about the Texan, but … other things."
"Remember that talk we had about specificity? Gonna need a little more of that right about now."
Peacemaker explained as much as he dared about the tension between the other leaders and black King.
Nadia leaned forward. "You want me to like … hack black King's personal files?"
He blinked. She could do that? Peacemaker shook himself. "No. Don't draw attention. Just … keep your eyes open."
"Riiight. Keep it on the down low." She gave an exaggerated wink. "Got it."
Peacemaker let out a sigh and ended the call. Whites. A sniff of actual field work and they got all gung ho. He shifted his attention to the file Nadia had sent. She had been thorough. Too thorough. It was fifty pages long.
As he was skimming, Bordeaux returned. "Any luck?"
He grunted. "Got the address for a robotics lab in the outskirts of El Paso. It's possible the Texan got the suit from there."
"I'll check it out for you."
"Lead's solid. We'll both head out tomorrow." He passed her the laptop so she could read. "If the kid was there, we're that much closer to finding out who made the thing. If we know that, then maybe they can shut it down or tell us how to track it."
Bordeaux muttered something.
"What was that?"
"Nothing. Just reading out loud."
Peacemaker stood to look over her shoulder. It turned out that the lab was a subsidiary of Kord Omniversal. "Kord? As in Jarvis Kord? Good eye, Bordeaux. I'll have the pawn look into this."
Bordeaux stared at the screen. "You sure that's a good idea?" Peacemaker frowned. "We should keep this close to the vest."
"We're all on the same side."
Bordeaux turned to him. "If you think it's best. Just … be careful. Once you start pulling a thread, things unravel quickly. And you might not like what you find."
He stared, unsure of what to say, or how to take her sudden suspicion. Was it just his paranoia, or was she trying to keep this discovery to herself? It sounded like a threat. Offering to go alone to check it out. Not wanting an investigation into Kord Omniversal. Bordeaux had been up front thus far. For some reason this lab had her skittish. He almost considered confronting her. But wasn't it Bordeaux herself that warned him to be careful?
She practically forced herself onto his retrieval team. Working together, fighting together, Peacemaker had almost forgotten why he'd been brought on this case in the first place. Black King was overly interested in the Texan. And Bordeaux, Peacemaker reminded himself, worked for King.
He'd keep pulling this thread. But now he had to watch his back.
"Rest up," he told her. "We leave before dawn."
The alarm clock said four in the morning.
Incorrect. Satellite clock puts time at 3:56 AM.
Jaime couldn't sleep. Every time he tried, he jerked awake in a cold sweat. Visions of a paralyzing shadow reaching for him danced through his head. He turned on the bedside lamp and sat up. Everyone was asleep. The only noise was the soft chirping of wood as the house settled in the night.
The gnawing was getting worse. And the longer he resisted, the weaker he became.
He was only delaying the inevitable action.
Now was perfect. Go to their rooms. One by one. Honey had a trailer next to the stables. Finish him last. Then Jaime could rest as long as he needed, recharge, plan his attack on Checkmate, end them, complete the directive.
Five minutes. Just five minutes of sleep. Jaime stood and paced the small room. But if he slept … That was how it happened the first time. It came in the night. It took over. It almost killed his …
No!
He sunk onto the bed. It wasn't going to happen again. The armor was gone. This was his body. He was in control.
He fidgeted, paced, sat again.
So tired.
He stared at his leg, rubbing the dark bandage, the constant evidence of what was inside him.
Repairs almost complete. Bone still mending. A few more days …
Suddenly, the bandage started to grow. It reached out and dyed his skin. Jaime's eyes went wide. The ebony stain slid along creases, swallowing his shorts, then his shirt. He frantically tried to pull it away. What was happening?
Exterior defenses activating.
"Defenses?" Then he realized what it was. The armor was taking over. "Oh no. Stop!" It was happening again. Why was it happening?
Jaime was exposed. Power levels sufficient to implement and maintain exterior defenses.
"No. You said I'm still healing. Still weak. Power levels critical, right?" What was this stuff? How was it just … growing like that?
Jaime's directive was still in effect. Priority: avoid detection from Checkmate. Avoid capture. Eliminate liabilities.
"No!"
Footsteps plodded within the house. Someone had heard him shout. They were coming.
"Don't you dare. Don't do anything." Jaime clenched his hands together, trying to force the armor back. Like cool liquid flowing against gravity, the suit crept up his chest. A knock at the door. Jaime leapt across the room and slammed his back against it to keep it from opening.
"Paco?" Doña Carla called. "What happened? Everything okay?"
Jaime tried to keep his voice a whisper. "I won't. I won't do it."
Jaime's housemates had witnessed too much, asked too many questions. Too many variables he couldn't control. They could alert the authorities leading to Jaime's incarceration. Eliminate them.
Jaime shook his head. His knees felt weak just thinking of the blind rage from two days ago, a rage that had blown up a bridge. A rage that stabbed a man. This wasn't him. It wasn't who he wanted to be. "I can't do it again. I can't hurt anyone else. Not again."
"Niño? Todo bien? I can't open the door."
Jaime was able to perform the necessary procedures. Low energy blast to the heart, brain, abdomen -
His arm itched as the suit mapped out the weapon. "I won't let you."
"Why not?" she called through the wood.
Jaime had no authorization to override operating procedure.
Jaime lowered his voice again."They helped me. Saved me. I can't hurt them. It's wrong."
Eliminating liabilities to his safety fulfills priority.
"That doesn't make it right!"
The suit was silent.
"Niño, is there someone in there with you?"
"I'll leave," Jaime said breathless. "I'll leave and everything will be fine. That fulfills the priority, doesn't it? No witnesses."
The foreign skin had all but swallowed him. The armor seemed to pause as though considering.
Jaime's alternate course of action was less efficient. Margin of risk: higher. But … there were advantages to conserving energy until a greater threat presented itself.
The armor receded, sucked back into his pores. Jaime breathed out a sigh of relief. His clothes, his skin, they were back. He cracked open the door.
Doña Carla stared back with concern. "Qué es esto? Oí ruidos y gritos. No abrirías la puerta. Estoy muy preocupada por ti. Qué está pasando?"
"Lo siento. Lo siento," he soothed. "I'm sorry, Doña Carla. I just had a bad dream."
Please go away. Please. A weapon was clawing to come out of his hand if she should suspect anything.
She cooed. "So sad. Come. I heat up some posole, si?"
His fear melted and he bit back a chuckle. "I'm really not hungry, Doña."
"Ah. Boys your age are always hungry."
"Gracias, Doña Carla. But I just want to get back to bed."
She shuffled off, muttering something about skin and bones. Jaime closed the door and listened as she returned to her room.
He couldn't stay here. Doña Carla, Enrique, Lluvia … They had taken him in, nursed him back to health, tried to set him back on his feet, treated him like a son. They were good people who truly wanted to help him. Not like Checkmate or Peacemaker. Jaime shoved a wave of anger down.
But as much as this family wanted to help him, they couldn't. Not with this.
He waited until he was sure the woman was asleep, then he slipped out the bedroom window. Around the house was a low adobe wall. Age corroded the plaster to reveal bricks of clay beneath. Jaime paced to the front. The ranch was flat. To the left were the stables, large enough for twenty or so horses. Next to that was Honey's silver trailer. The windows were dark.
Jaime shivered and rubbed his arms. He had to figure out how to stop this suit. But first he needed to get out of here. His last attempt at flying had ended in an unexpected drop. And he wanted to keep the armor off for as long as he could. Walking wouldn't get him far. And if Enrique and Honey found him and tried to bring him back there was no telling what the suit would do to them.
That's when Jaime spotted the pickup. It sat a few meters up on the dirt road next to a shed.
He'd never stolen so much as a candy bar in his life. And here he was, going straight for grand theft auto. Dios, if his madre knew what he was doing …
He pushed open the gate and immediately regretted it. the rusted hinges let out a squeal. Honey's dog was tethered outside the trailer. It barked furiously at the noise. Jaime cursed. Shut up shut up! Why didn't he think about the stupid dog!
He had to silence it before anyone woke up. Sonics. Dogs were sensitive to all sorts of frequencies. His hand morphed into a sonic emitter. Thirty thousand hertz should do the trick. Immediately the barking was silenced. But then havoc came from the stables. All the horses whinnied and kicked at the stalls.
Apparently dogs weren't the only animals that could hear frequencies that high.
Jaime cut off the sound but the horses didn't stop. And the dog started barking again. A light came on in the trailer. Honey had woken up.
Jaime sprinted for the truck. Unlocked. But the key … He checked the glove compartment, the visor, under the seat. Nothing. Light in the stables. Honey was trying to find out what had spooked the horses.
Come on. He worked on cars. Think.
He could hot-wire it, but he didn't have time for that or the right tools … Tools! The pickup was an older model. Early 80's. Yes. He needed a screwdriver.
Jaime checked the pickup bed. Toolbox. Bingo. He rifled around for a flathead. With a jolt, he realized he was seeing clearly in the pitch dark. The armor hadn't receded from his hand. It fact it was spreading.
Don't think about that. Just get out fast.
Lights on in the house.
Caray!
There. A flathead screwdriver. He snagged it and scootched in the driver seat. He jammed the screwdriver into the ignition and twisted. Wouldn't turn. He hit the end of the screwdriver. Had to break the ignition cylinder. Still wouldn't turn. Voices from outside. They weren't close, but how long before they realized he was gone and thought to check the truck?
Come on. He hit the handle again. The screwdriver turned and the truck sputtered to life.
Yes!
The steering wheel was locked.
Santo cielo!
Calm down. Think.
He could fix this. He needed another screwdriver. He jumped out and grabbed another from the toolbox. A figure in the night. They had heard the engine, were coming this way.
Prepare offensive.
"I almost have it." He swung back in the truck.
Weapon detected. M1400 Semi-automatic shotgun, 12 gage.
"It's for coyotes, not me."
Unconfirmed. Prepare offensive.
He jammed the screwdriver between the steering column and the steering wheel to jimmy the lock bolt. Jaime's arm stung as it tried to morph. "I can still get away. Come on." The lock released. He tossed the tool aside and put the truck in gear. Stick shift. Great. He'd driven one before. And played like twenty racing games. He could do this.
"Paco?"
Jaime flinched as a light came through the passenger window. Lluvia. She cradled the shotgun, aiming a flashlight in his face. Her eyes were wide in shock and hurt.
"I-I'm sorry." Jaime hit the gas and peeled out.
He lurched down the dirt road. The itch in his arm died. The ebony skin was past his elbow but didn't advance from there.
In the rear view mirror he watched the ranch grow smaller and smaller. Lluvia's shrinking figure stared after him.
Jaime beat down the guilt. He'd had no choice but to run. It was only a matter of time before he … the suit made him hurt one of them. They couldn't help him with the armor. No one could.
But every car had a manual. There had to be a way of figuring out how the suit worked. If he could understand it he could find some way to get control. To do that he needed to know where the suit was made.
Jaime squeezed the steering wheel. The armor's programming was muddled with his own thoughts. He could only tell the difference when it wanted to blow things up, and even then, it was hard to separate from his own emotions. He didn't know when he was being paranoid or when it was the suit feeding him information. He guessed that the armor had some sort of artificial intelligence, which in normal circumstances — not having it in his head for example — would be awesome. But as it was, the line between him and it kept shifting. Jaime found it nearly impossible to know for certain which of his impulses were foreign. It was like arguing with a more cynical version of himself most of the time. With this in mind, getting clear information from it would not be easy. Even so, he had to try.
Jaime took a few breaths, stilling himself. As always, the details and readings of his surroundings buzzed through his head. He tried to focus on that constant whirring of thoughts. He addressed it vocally. "Where … where did you, this armor I mean, come from?"
His brain shifted through elements, only a handful of which were actually found on the periodic table. He squinted at the road, straining to sift the needed facts from his mindscape.
External defenses composed mainly of organic recycled waste from Jaime's body in addition to some harvested exterior elements.
Did organic waste mean what he thought it meant? He made a face "Gross! I did not want to know that."
Why propose a query when Jaime did not desire the information?
"Shut up. Where did the armor come from, like … where in the world?"
Invalid inquiry.
"Just tell me! This I need to know. Where were you before inside of me? Ugh, that sounds so wrong."
Before binding to Jaime …
"Whoa, binding? Yes, this is the kind of information I'm talking about. Unbind from me. Like … now."
Negative. Separation of host and unit against operating procedure.
"I am NOT your host!"
Jaime's decibel did not alter reality.
"Whatever. What were you saying before?"
Before binding to Jaime, unit was in forced stasis under the supervision of …
"Get to the point. Where was that?"
Location of forced stasis: longitude -
"Traje, we talked about this."
A pause.
Location: Texas, El Paso, building known as Texas Research and Technology.
Jaime stared out at the dirt road. "You mean TRT. I know that place. That's that lab. Where our class went to help clean up that lot for the homeless shelter." Finally some progress. The answers would be there. Most of the lab had burned down as he remembered, but that was almost two months ago, Surely they must have rebuilt by now.
His brain buzzed in sudden agitation. The armor spread over his chest now.
Jaime must not return to Texas. Checkmate still in pursuit. Recommendation: recharge.
"I want answers. You want a host. "Jaime groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Now I'm saying it. Look, there has to be a way we can compromise."
A thrum in his skull as the word was analyzed.
Compromise required only when parties were equally matched. If not, superior party could merely exact their will upon the inferior party. Jaime must follow the directive.
Did the suit really just call him inferior? "Who's inferior to who, here!"
Jaime did not desire the answer to this query.
"Was that- Did you just burn me? Ugh! How do I shut you up!" He punched the steering wheel. "Look, compromise is about respect and trust. Not power."
Spoken as one who is inferior.
"Remember what a team is?"
He couldn't be sure, but Jaime experienced sort of a mental grinding of teeth. Could computers even get annoyed?
These philosophies were flawed. Once synchronization was completed such thoughts would be eradicated.
"Eliminate. Eradicate. Don't you ever think about anything else?"
Invalid query.
It was like arguing with a six year-old. Luckily, Jaime knew just what to do when arguing with a six year-old. He drove in silence.
Jaime must not return to Texas.
Dirt turned to pavement. It was almost an hour before he reached Interstate 10. He knew the route from visiting cousins further north. He turned East. It would take him to Las Cruces, then from there, down into El Paso.
Jaime must not return to Texas.
Three miles outside of Las Cruces, the armor had all but taken over his body.
Jaime would not return to Texas.
Jaime's vision twinged and he swerved. "Cut it out!" He could see the car's engine, the belts, carburetor, fan, and other parts. What was the suit …
EMP of minor power would disable the vehicle.
"Wait -"
The engine died. Steering lost hydraulic power and became stiff and sluggish.
"Maria purísima!" Jaime pulled to the side of the road. The truck coasted to a stop.
Jaime gripped the steering wheel, trying to breathe evenly. It was dark outside for now. Traffic would pick up soon at rush hour. He looked down at himself. The armor had taken over completely, an onyx layer concealing his body. He couldn't let people see him like this. The suit would freak out and try and kill anyone who did.
Liabilities.
Jaime left the truck and headed south off the highway. He knew El Paso was an hour by car. What was that like … forty miles? Could he make it that far in a day? Without any water or food? Without someone seeing him?
Jaime would not return to Texas.
Jaime's senses were overwhelmed. Light, sound, heat, cold, a hundred sensations flooded his body. He collapsed, writhing in pain.
The bombardment stopped like a faucet being turned off.
"What the heck!"
Jaime would not return to Texas.
"Yes Jaime will return to Texas!" He crawled to his feet. "I'm going to find out how to get you off of me and you're going to shut up and- Ay!"
He collapsed a second time.
"Cut it out!"
Jaime would not return to Texas
"Por favor, no sé cuánto más de esto puedo tomar! Can we please agree to something before I pass out in the middle of nowhere?"
Jaime must agree to submit to directive. Operating procedure must be followed.
"And I want to go to El Paso. Can't we do both?"
Negative.
Jaime covered his face. "I don't really think you get the compromising thing."
Returning to El Paso Texas would endanger Jaime. One of the highest priorities: Sustain life of host.
"Stop calling me that."
Quarry: Does subject Jaime object to living?
"Well, duh. Of course not."
Then an agreement was reached. Jaime would not return.
"Two can play at that, trajo! Do you want a host that will do all that directive stuff?"
Affirmative.
"Then we go to Texas and find you one!"
Negative. Such action would be against procedure.
"Well sometimes you need to adapt. You can't bug out every time something happens that's not part of your plan or whatever. You accept it and move on!" Jaime shook his head. "Great. Now I sound like my dad."
It is against procedure to modify the directive.
"Dude! Modify away. There's more than one way to get the job done."
The suit was silent.
Jaime eased himself to his feet. No flash of pain. "So … are we agreed?"
Adaptation appears essential. But Jaime must be aware of the potential dangers. 78 percent chance of -
"I accept the risk, okay? Can we go?"
Plotting trajectory.
"Wait, are you sure that we have enough power to fly there? Last time -"
Jaime must not bug out. If power fails, Jaime must adapt to the situation.
"That's funny. Just come up with that?"
Affirmative. Trajectory plotted.
Jaime braced himself as thrusters morphed out of his back. In seconds he was skyborn and on his way to El Paso.
Loose Spanish translation as taken in context:
ay - ow
caray - dang it
doña - mistress / head of the house
Dios - God
estoy muy preocupada por ti - I'm so worried about you
gracias - thank you
lo siento - I'm sorry
madre - mother
Maria purísima - for Heaven's sake
niño - boy
oí ruidos y gritos - I heard loud noises and shouting
por favor, no sé cuánto más de esto puedo tomar! - please, I don't know how much more of this I can take!
posole - (a type of Mexican stew)
qué es esto? - what is this?
qué está pasando? - what is happening?
no abrirías la puerta - you wouldn't open the door
santo cielo - good heavens
si - yes
todo bien? - everything okay?